


Smile

by coreopsis



Category: Withnail & I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:10:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place a few weeks after the film so sort of spoilery for the ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile

Marwood was just finishing the washing up when the pounding started. He put the last clean plate away and went to answer the door. Pulling the door open, he stared in shock for a moment before breaking out into a painfully wide smile.

"The train was beastly, this dreadful town is little better than Penrith, why couldn't you stay in London like a reasonable human being? I need a drink. You look absolutely ridiculous. When are you going to stop playing soldier or whatthefuckever and grow your hair back?" Withnail announced all of this without taking the cigarette from his mouth as he pushed into the tiny flat.

"Thank God you're finally here. I'm out of fags." Marwood held out a hand expectantly, restraining himself from throwing his arms around Withnail.

Withnail reached into his coat pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes then stopped. "What do you mean 'finally'?"

"I knew you'd come eventually."

"You most certainly did not."

Marwood shrugged and kept smiling. He wanted to stop but couldn't. He was beginning to fear his heart would burst in his chest.

"It's not like I needed you around or I missed you. I just wanted to see how you were getting along." Withnail looked around the one room flat and sniffed. "This place is appallingly clean. Where's the nearest pub?"

"I thought Manchester was a good place to turn over a new leaf. Decided I didn't want to live with rats again." Marwood walked over to get his coat from the rack by the door. "There's a pub just 'round the corner."

"Manchester isn't a good place for anything as far as I can see," said Withnail as they went down the stairs to the street. "Last week was my birthday and you didn't even ring."

"You don't have a phone," Marwood pointed out reasonably.

"You could have sent a telegram or took the train down to see me." Withnail finally handed over the pack of cigarettes so Marwood could take one.

"I had a performance that day." Marwood shrugged and shook out the match before tossing it in the gutter.

Withnail turned up the collar of his coat and fell into step beside Marwood. "Rub it in, you bastard."

"I did think about you." Marwood bumped Withnail with his shoulder.

"Of course you did." Withnail lit a fresh cigarette and put an arm around Marwood's shoulders. "Of course you did."

 

***

After putting away an amount of alcohol that would send lesser men to an early and swift grave, Withnail and Marwood staggered out of the pub and rambled back to Marwood's flat at a leisurely pace. Marwood squinted up at the sky between pools of lamplight and said, "I'm glad you came, With. I'm really glad you came."

"Yes." Withnail took a deep drag on his cigarette and tossed it to the ground, leaving the butt smoldering on the pavement. When he spoke again, his voice started out quietly accusatory then quickly moved on into the dramatic hysterics that Marwood had grown to expect over the years and had grown to miss over the last few weeks. "You think I can't live without you. You think you left me a hollow husk of a man, writhing about in a pit of loneliness and despair! As if I need the pathetic likes of *you*--" he paused to poke Marwood in the chest with a sharp index finger then seemed to forget what else he was going to say. He swayed back and forth on his feet for a moment then quietly said, "I'm afraid...I shall be ill."

Marwood leaped back just in time to save his boots and then walked around behind Withnail so he could pat him on the back from a safe distance. When he'd finished retching, Withnail propped his hands on his knees and looked up at Marwood with such a pathetic expression on his pale clammy face that Marwood lost any desire to take the piss out of him.

Marwood slid a hand under Withnail's arm and wrapped his other arm around Withnail's waist, and then he guided them both back to the flat, stumbling a few times as they got their feet sorted out sufficiently to take on the stairs. At the top of the stairs, he propped Withnail against the wall so that he could dig out his keys and unlock the door.

Once he got Withnail inside and slumped on the couch, Marwood took a blanket from his bed and covered Withnail with it, not bothering to take off his clothes or shoes. As he pulled the blanket up under Withnail's chin, Withnail's eyes shot open and he said in a raspy voice, "You think right," and then closed his eyes and passed out.

Marwood patted Withnail's chest and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. One glance into the mirror revealed his biggest smile yet.

 

The end.


End file.
